


Every Hand's A Winner/Every Hand's A Loser

by LuxObscura



Series: Recon, Ruction, Recover, Relax [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, Poker, Strip Poker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2015-05-26
Packaged: 2018-04-01 07:26:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4011046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuxObscura/pseuds/LuxObscura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is, of course, Tony who suggest they begin wagering articles of clothing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Every Hand's A Winner/Every Hand's A Loser

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Avengers drabble request: Some folks think Thor is all big dumb muscle and no brains. Thor takes advantage of this.

When Thor arrives at the common area of the tower for movie night, he finds the TV off and a large round table set up instead.  Bucky sees Thor first and, sidles up to him, explaining in a low voice about poker night. “The only time I played with them,” he murmurs just low enough for Thor to hear, “I still wasn’t all back yet but I remembered playing for hours just to pass time in the war. It’s as much psychology as it is strategy, and I think they all forgot I’ve had a lot of practice with both of those things.” Bucky’s smile is predatory but his eyes are laughing.  “Cleaned them all out in record time.  Stark was apoplectic.”

Thor meets Bucky’s smile with one of his own.  “Thank you for the explanation.  Most informative.” Bucky nods and moves back across the room to settle on the couch.

Thor takes a seat at the table.  “I would hear the rules of this wagering game,” he says with a winning smile.

Natasha’s explaining the rules of the game to him with an open and earnest face, and Thor nods along obligingly. Clint’s shuffling cards, riffling them back and forth with practiced ease.  Tony has a predatory gleam in his eye and from somewhere Sam has produced some sort of translucent green plastic visor which he wears without a hint of irony. Steve doles out chips with practiced ease while Bucky and Bruce lean back on the couch engaged in something Tony calls ‘rail-birding’, though to Thor’s eye there are no rails or birds involved. Natasha finishes her explanation and nods at Clint.

“All right. Dealer’s choice, we’ll go with straight hold ‘em out of deference to new faces at the table.” Everyone is dealt two cards and the two players to Clint’s left post the blinds.  Thor focuses — though the terminology is confusing the intent becomes clear to him.  He plays conservatively, watching the cards and the way they must be grouped to win hands. The progression of play is easy enough to follow and after a few hands he switches to watching the faces of the people at the table more than the cards.  No one seems to be paying much attention to Thor.  He’s not a flashy player — that would be Tony — nor does he appear to be particularly involved with the nuances of his hand — that would be Sam. Thor plays well enough that his stack of chips is not significantly growing or shrinking for the next little while.

When the deal comes back to Clint, he announces, “Five card draw!”  The procedure of play changes slightly, but it’s the only difference worth remarking about.  Still, Thor bides his time, taking advantage of his teammates’ indulgence to look at his hand longer, think harder about his bets, and to slow the play of the game. The cards introduce an element of unpredictability but in reality this ‘poker’ is as much of a mind game as any battle.  Thor very carefully does not smile. 

After a little while he catches Natasha watching him out of the corner of her eye. He smiles broadly at her and she looks away.

When it’s her turn to deal, Natasha announces, “This round we hunt the bitch!” and explains about the wild card.  Thor nods and looks absorbed in his hand.  Tony, for all his bluster, has the short stack with Clint not far ahead.  Steve has very carefully been amassing a steadily growing stack of chips, which seems to aggravate Tony. 

“We did a lot of hurry-up-and-wait across Europe.  Mostly we played for cigarettes though,” is all Steve says by way of explanation.

As the night rolls on the banter increases, along with the empty number of liquor and beer bottles lining the bar.  Thor continues holding the middle ground while around him stacks are won and lost.

It is, of course, Tony who suggest they begin wagering articles of clothing.

“You’re just saying that because you’re still short stack,” says Natasha, who’s pulled ahead of Steve.

“Who’re you calling short?” quips Stark.  Natasha throws a pretzel at him. 

“Ow,” says Tony without any real heat.  “All right, we’re doing it.  Anyone with any objections can stand up now and keep their pants on.”

Heads turn back and forth across the table, everyone seemingly waiting for someone to be the first to back out.  The only person who stands is Bruce, who excuses himself with a wave and a smile. Everyone bids him goodnight.

Steve looks at Bucky. “Put your phone away.” Bucky rolls his eyes, but slips his phone back in his pocket.  “Tony’s already been seen by everybody who reads the tabloids and Natasha would kill you,” Steve points out.

“Natasha would _try_.” Bucky winks in her direction. Natasha hits him directly between the eyes with a pretzel with so much force the pretzel explodes into dust on impact.  There’s a red mark on Bucky’s forehead.  Natasha looks smug. “Natasha might,” he amends, rubbing the mark.

Tony takes the deck and shuffles gleefully.  “The game is HORSE.  Blinds are doubled, anyone who runs out of chips can wager an article of clothing. When you’re naked, you’re done.” Tony deals.

Thirty minutes later Thor has every chip on the table stacked in front of him, Tony is passed out naked on the couch (Bucky has covered him with a blanket “for the good of everyone’s eyesight”), Clint has been out for a while but has stayed at the table to drink and shake his head incredulously and Sam had been a good sport about the whole thing down to losing his underwear, but once eliminated had put his pants back on.  Steve is down to a pair of boxer briefs and Natasha has both her underwear _and_ her bra. Both of them have folded and are staring at Thor who is, naturally, still fully clothed.

“I think I’m out of the game,” Steve says, rummaging on the floor for his t-shirt.

“Discretion is the better part of valor,” Natasha agrees with just a hint of a slur to her words. She leans over and picks up a shirt from the floor, slipping it over her head.  It’s Steve’s.

“Hey,” Steve blinks at her. 

“Oops,” says Natasha, sounding not sorry at all.

Clint leans his chin on his hand and looks at Thor.  “So are you some kind of prodigy or did we just fall for some kinda Asgardian card shark?”

Thor smiles and leans back in his chair.  “In Asgard we often play games and wager over them, sometimes to pass the time and sometimes for higher stakes.  Your Midgardian poker is not so different from all of those.”  Thor takes a sip from a bottle of beer and delights in the pleasant flush of alcohol. “We teach these games from a young age. The strategy is good for young warriors — it teaches them to think, to plan ahead, be flexible, account for good turns and bad.”  He drums his fingers against the tabletop for a moment, considering.  “However, there is also knowledge to be gained from watching those with whom you play.  You will learn to know just by watching them when they are worried or joyful or fatigued or being deceitful.”  A pause. “I fear I may have misled you all a bit. After fighting side by side with you I already know many of these things about you.  But I do not…  I do not feel that you were always watching me with the same care.  I hope you are not angry with me, but I needed to show you that I am more than just a god with a hammer and large muscles.” Thor tries for a smile. Everyone in the room is gaping at him, some more openly than others.  The silence thickens in the air and worry creeps in to the edges of Thor’s mind. He _may_ have miscalculated the Midgardian custom of alcohol and honesty just a bit.

Helpfully, Tony lets out a window-rattling snore at that moment and the mood breaks.

Bucky bursts into laughter.  “I _knew_ you were listening to what I was telling you.”

“I. What?  Bucky?  Thor?” Steve looks confused and pink in the cheeks.

Natasha’s looking at him with something like approval while beside her Clint’s nodding along muttering, “Yeah, right on.  Man, that’s good.”

Sam claps him on the shoulder and grins.  “Well that’s one way to teach the lesson!” 

Thor slowly breaks into a grin, the warmth returning to his chest.  “I know you will not underestimate me again, friends. And I thank you for your forbearance with my demonstration.  There are no hard feelings, then?”

There’s a chorus of “No!” in various forms that breaks out in the room.  Tony joins in with another snore. 

“Excellent! I am glad of it!” People stand and begin pulling on their clothes.  Thor holds up a pair of purple boxer briefs hooked on one finger and holds them out to Clint. “I believe these are yours.”

Clint looks down to his lap and back up at Thor, apparently surprised that he’s still naked. “Aw, nuts!”

Thor laughs without reservation, and within a few seconds everyone else joins in.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [tumblr](http://lux-obscura.tumblr.com)!


End file.
